


Road Trip

by Bam4Me



Series: Daycare Center [5]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Asexual Obi-Wan Kenobi, Caregiver!Jango, Caregiver!Qui-Gon, Gen, Jango Is So Done With These Children Fighting, Like a HUGE age difference and I'm not sorry, Little!Obi-Wan, M/M, More characters to be added, More tags to be added, Non-Sexual Age Play, Obi-Wan is 19, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, True Mandalorians Survive, Young Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 08:54:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19292422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bam4Me/pseuds/Bam4Me
Summary: Of course, what else is there to do in the galaxy when on the run from evil murderers than to take a road trip with the kids? Nothing else could beat it. Nothing but maybe a xanax and three bottles of 10 credit wine.Seriously, if these children don't stop squabbling, someone is getting spaced.





	Road Trip

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so, RIP my spot as the first ever Jango/Qui-Gon fic on AO3 lol I new my procrastination would come to bite me in the ass one day, but at the same time I get to say 'it's not THAT weird I'm not the only one who came up with it!!!!!' and no one can question me.
> 
> padawansuggest.tumblr.com

There were a lot of things one might expect when returning the heir apparent to her homeworld of Mandalore, one might expect the assassins who killed her family were still there, waiting for her return, one might expect that the council would send more than just a single master and apprentice would be a good idea for protecting her against an entire insurrection to take over their entire system, but what are you gonna do. One might expect that Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon would have to lay low with the duchess while they figure out who they need to get rid of for her to retake the throne. 

 

One might not expect their entire group to be kidnapped by the Mand’alor of Concord Dawn itself and taken off world in his ship. 

 

“You will let me out of this overblown  _ cage _ right this instant!”

 

Jango crosses his arms, sharing a look with Master Jinn, who was so far, outside the ‘cage’ that Satine had been put in. Master Jinn didn’t exactly like the man, this is the  _ second _ time his little one has been taken into his custody, but had conceded to figure things out before trying any sort of escape. They had left Obi-Wan with a bratty little serving droid in the ship’s mess. His little one was starving after almost three months on the run on the ground before Jango had shown up to kidnap them all in the night. 

 

It was almost embarrassing, the way he’d managed to grab all three of them without any major incidents. Qui-Gon Jinn was ramping up his view of Jango from ‘little kidnapper’ to ‘a full blown threat if he decides he doesn’t like them’. That man was dangerous. 

 

Jango exchanged a look with Qui-Gon anyways, looking less than half amused, before turning back to the holding cell. It wasn’t a massive ship, but True Mandalorians were a bounty hunting and police group, they often had use to transport prisoners, even if Jaster’s Legacy was a personal ship. “You’re a pacifist, Duchess Kryze, enlighten me, what are you going to do if I don’t let you out? Out of that cell, that’s holding you back from doing something stupid, like biting me. Again.”

 

Satine crossed her arms, looking away with a grimace on her face. Even a pacifist couldn’t fully resist the Mandalorian urge to defend themselves when grabbed. “Well, if you hadn’t kidnapped us in the night, I might not have done that.”

 

Jango Fett looked  _ so _ done with her already. “Duchess Kryze, as I have already informed you, I did not kidnap you, I removed you from the planet where Death Watch squadrons have been systematically hunting out your hiding spots in the hopes that they can  _ slaughter  _ you and gain control of the planet.”

 

Satine sagged a little, looking supremely uncomfortable. That was what they did to the rest of her surviving family members too. As far as she knows, she only has a nephew and two sisters left. “And what do you propose I do instead,  _ Mand’alor _ Fett?” She tried to say it like an insult, sarcastically, but it came out more like a plead. She knew from Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon themselves that Jango had steered his own people out from Death Watch slaughter before.

 

The one thing she really  _ did _ know about Death Watch, was that the True Mandalorians couldn’t even entertain their presence. They didn’t fight by  _ rules _ , they only wanted to conquer the galaxy as they saw fit. Satine might be able to entertain a True Mandalorian with honor, but the Death Watch needed to  _ go _ . 

 

Jango leaned against the wall across the hall from the holding cell, looking a little tired. “My True Mandalorians are hunting them out. They’ll send word to us when the planet and the surrounding planets are as good as cleared from Death Watch troops. Then it’ll be safe to bring you back home. The four of us are going to play planet tag for a while until we’ve lost the tails, and then we’re going to spend a  _ long _ time working out an agreement between the two of us so you don’t outlaw my people’s way of life. Satine, my father fought against Death Watch same as you’re fighting against them now, we’re not them. Don’t punish us for their atrocities, and don’t insinuate our way of life equals theirs.”

 

Satine was quiet for a long minute, but she could see nothing else to do but give a subtle little nod. “I would like to be let out of this cell. I won’t bite you again, but I won’t be your prisoner either.”

 

Jango nodded, putting in the access code to open the cell for her. “Good.”

 

Jango paused before he left, looking back at Master Jinn for a moment, before turning fully to face her. “Duchess Kryze, I’ve been where you are now, fearing for my people’s lives after an attack by the Death Watch, and unsure if my people will accept me as their leader because I surrendered to the Jedi when we all came to an agreement that it was a trap. I believed my soldiers would see surrender as a weakness they couldn’t follow. That it was better to  _ die _ in battle than risk looking weak. But even then, almost all of them praised a decision that lead to Death Watch capture, even if they had to go through the indignity of an arrest themselves. The True Mandalorians cannot survive alongside Death Watch. You might think pacifism is the only way to move Mandalore forward, but do not compare us to them.”

 

He left to go look for the last little member of their group while Satine sought counsel from her elder Jedi protector. Jango had the feeling she liked Jinn more than Obi-Wan anyways. 

 

Jango found Obi-Wan at a table in his mess, sleeping against the tabletop with one thumb in his mouth, and messy hair spilling all over. He needed a haircut. That terrible padawan cut that made Obi-Wan look so boyishly adorable was all floppy and curling at the ends. The little had told him they would meet again, but Jango somehow hadn’t actually expected it.

 

He shook his head a bit, amused, and put his helmet in his room as he passed, before coming back to the kitchen. Obi-Wan was limp in his arms, relaxed and completely sure of his own safety now that he was finally off Mandalore. When Jango had found him, he was a tense little ball that woke at the first touch, but he was content to flop against Jango now. 

 

He got all the way to outside the room he’s decided to keep Obi-Wan in for now, before he was stopped by the older Jedi, who looked mildly disapproving of Jango’s handling of his little one. The Jedi didn’t say anything though, simply stopping the man before reaching into a hidden pocket in his robes, and pulling out a little sonic casing. He easily pulled Obi-Wan’s thumb out of his mouth, replacing it with an orange pacifier before the little could complain about it, and waved Jango off into the room to deposit the teen. 

 

When he came back out, Satine was sulking in the hallway, arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Jango raised an eyebrow at her. He figured she was probably just exhausted though. She might be a little more thankful for the kidnap after she’s had her first good meal and sleep for the past few months, but Jango wasn’t looking for her thanks. Just a good leadership for their people that isn’t going to lead to another blood feud. 

 

He nodded to the door across the hall. “Mess is through there, your quarters is across through there.”

 

Satine frowned, before looking to where he’d pointed first with a starved look about her. She’s probably just as starving as Obi-Wan had been, or worse, since she’s likely less used to skipping meals than he is. She didn’t say anything until she was in the doorway to the mess, looking back at him with a little frown. “I… I didn’t know Padawan Kenobi was a… a little…”

 

Jango nodded slowly, wondering what her thoughts on that were. “He is. You probably can’t tell by scent, since you’re not a little or a caregiver. You wouldn’t have reason to know unless he went little around you.”

 

Satine went into the mess with a frustrated look on her face, and Jango followed her in, leading her to a seat at the table before moving to make her a sandwich. She was too tired and annoyed to do it herself right now.

 

“Have  _ reason _ ? Littles don’t just go little for a  _ reason _ , they  _ are _ little, right? So he’s… he has to be lying, or something. If he was really a little he would be like that all the time.”

 

Ahh. So she’s been buying into the general populous rumors about humans and their dynamics.

 

Jango made a gentle little noise at that, pulling things out of the cooler and cupboards. Satine waved away one ingredient as he held it up for inspection and he nodded, quietly working for a few moments before he spoke again. “What you just described… well, that’s not quite what a little is. See, the entire definition of a little, isn’t that they need constant attention and care, as much as people in power would like you to believe. Not truthfully, of course, but in the same way people in power will try to convince you that slaves  _ want _ to be owned.”

 

Satine was tiredly piecing that together for a moment, before the colour left her face, going far paler than a proper Mandalorian should ever be. Her complexion would have been rarer on Concord Dawn, but Mandalore proper tended to have pale skin in the main city. There was speculation about that.

 

“I guess, that makes sense, that a little isn’t little at all times. I just… I’ve been around him almost constantly for nearly three months now, you’d think I’d have noticed something before now.”

 

Jango slid the plate over to the ravenous teenager, starting to clean up while she attempted a facade of dignity for a half a moment before digging into the plate with a little moan.

 

Jango was annoyed with her politics, but he was a caregiver, and she was a tired hungry teenager, and he was going to feed her until she finally calmed down and listened to reason.

 

Pheromones. Bloody pheromones surrounding Obi-Wan and clouding his judgement. He wanted to  _ parent _ them. It was weird.

 

Jango started putting stuff back, grabbing a bag of grapes from the fridge so he could put a handful on another plate. No way in hell would that be enough food for a half starved teenager. He distinctly remembered eating his weight in food every day up until barely four years ago. He still felt the urge to do it every once in a while.

 

Any longer in that sort of situation and she’d likely be feeling the long term effects of starvation syndrome instead of just the gnawing hunger at the beginning.

 

“This is why you never noticed before. He didn’t feel safe before. Did you feel safe on that planet?”

 

Satine looked up at him with big eyes, but she couldn’t resist the pile of grapes when offered, snacking on a few as she carefully got out, “I don’t really feel safe now.”

 

Jango raised an eyebrow at her before shrugging. “Fair. But no one’s yet to try and kill you on my ship. No one’s tried to beat you. You’ve in fact, been delivered into a climate controlled area and now you’ve been fed. I’ve even told you that you’ll have your own room. The room even has a lock on the door, and you can program it to whatever you wish.”

 

Satine sighed, going back to the second half of her meal while Jango looked back in the cooler for something else to give her. No. He needed to stop here. If he kept placing food in front of her, she’d likely keep eating, even to the point of making herself sick. He closed the cooler and came back to sit across from her, instead sliding over a sealed electrolyte drink. “Okay, yeah, safer than on Mandalore right now. What’s that got to do with him being little or not.”

 

“Well, if you felt unsafe, would you show someone your most vulnerable side you have? I wouldn’t, and I’m sure as a Mandalorian, your every instinct would scream at you not to do the same.”

 

Satine nodded. That was one thing all children were taught. Never show your stomach unless you know there aren’t any weapons near. Even hands count as weapons. 

 

She was swaying with the exhaustion of a hunter getting back from a long mission as Jango led her down the hallway towards what he intended to be her room while she was there. Jaster’s Legacy wasn’t very big, but it was considered a family vessel, and had enough space for this little group to spread out comfortably. 

 

On his way back he finally found Qui-Gon, the man having taken the same place at the table as the other two had, looking like he’s contemplating Big Things. 

 

“Ahh, I get to deal with all of you in one night. Alright, what’s your demand, now?” Jango couldn’t keep the teasing tone out of his voice, amused when the Jedi master just gave him a bland stare in reply, eyebrow twitching upwards. “Tea, or real food?”

 

Qui-Gon seemed to think of that for all of five seconds before that quiet voice replied, “I would say tea, but I can already feel the healers trying to flay me alive for it. Food and a bunk wouldn’t be remis.”

 

Jango snickered as he got down more supplies for sandwiches. He needed to restock on a  _ lot _ if he was going to cart around two teenagers and what he’s assuming might be some soft if wookiee/human hybrid if Master Jinn’s size and  _ hair _ was anything to go by, but sandwiches haven’t gotten him a complaint yet. It was weird, almost, making Qui-Gon food as well, but it didn’t feel the same as taking care of Obi-Wan and Satine. Saying was still just a teen. The same age he was when the Death Watch nearly killed them all. And now the same group was hunting her down too.

 

_ No True Mandalorian can survive alongside Death Watch.  _

 

Wrong. No  _ Mandalorian  _ can survive alongside Death Watch. They were a disease. Without them, the rest might have a chance for survival, but it seems, none of them were going to get that far without drastic measures.

 

But still, this isn’t the same as caring for a cranky teenager and exhausted little. Looking back at Qui-Gon before he slid a loaded plate over to the man, Jango wondered for a moment, if caregiver instinct was also to take care of other caregivers, and he’s just never noticed till now because of the culture he’s grown up in.

 

Mandalorians tend to take offense at being taken care of, if they’re not little or disabled. And even then, disabled people needing to be taken care of isn’t exactly because of  _ instinct _ , but need. There was something about taking care of a non-little adult that felt so… different. He looked down at the cutting board for a moment before starting to pack stuff away, for now the second time, and ventured for something to say. 

 

“We’ll have to stop, a few star systems away. I’m thinking we stick to outer rim territories first, make our way inward towards the temple. Death Watch are undeniably stupid, they’ll follow us for a while yet.”

 

Qui-Gon hummed, staring at the man’s back while he faced the other way. Jango was wearing one of those skin tight blacks underneath his armor, and Qui-Gon would be a dirty liar if he said the man didn’t look good where he could see it. The armor looked nice too, to be honest.

 

“Best stay out of Hutt territories. Two Jedi and two Mandalorians would be hard pressed not to topple their government just because we found one slave and got bothered.”

 

Jango couldn’t help the grin that plastered itself on his face, and was thankful he was facing the other direction. “Well, I can see our morals will match perfectly, where it counts.”

 

Jango turned back to see the Jedi looking at him with such intensity that he almost flinched, and moved to sit across from him. He couldn’t look away from those eyes. “I… Obi-Wan have any allergies? We’ll need to restock up soon, I’m sure we can find a nice shop in the first system we stop in.”

 

Qui-Gon just gave a slow nod, half tired, half curious. “Jenious bush berries.”

 

Jango frowned. “That must be a heck of an issue if he’s anywhere in the further galaxy edge.”

 

“Yes, an amazing reason the council has had to keep us out of those systems for the past six years. And I do so miss my old arguments with the prime minister of that system. Beware, Jango, two teenagers, one of which is my darling boy Obi-Wan, are going to blow through a lot of food in a very short time.”

 

Jango nodded. “Good. They’re both too skinny.”

 

Qui-Gon seemed to take offense for all of half a second, a holdover from being a caregiver himself, before letting that offense go with a gentle huff, shaking his head a little. “Right you are, Mand’alor Fett. They could use some sleep and a few good meals.”

 

Jango nodded with a little smile, standing up from the table. “You could also use a hell of a lot of that. Would you like to bunk with Obi-Wan, or have your own rooms?”

 

Qui-Gon smiled at him, unable not to feel almost fond for the man. “It’s best if I spend at least the first night with him. Though I would like to give him his privacy as an adult and a senior padawan, he’s still a little, and might wake up upset if he’s alone.”

 

Jango nodded, walking him across the hall to the room he’d put Obi-Wan in at least half an hour ago. “You, uh, you can call me Jango. No need for formality right now, I suppose.”

 

Qui-Gon’s eyes seemed to look into Jango’s soul, something that should have been creepy and upsetting, but it made Jango’s chest feel full of air, too tight, too nervous for a moment. Qui-Gon’s lips quirked into a little grin, nodding back at him. “Of course, Jango.”

 

He left after that, looking far too smug for reasons way too confusing to understand right now. Jango just shook his head, continuing on down to his own room, feeling weird and unsure why.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a fairly plotty slow-ish burn Jango/Qui-Gon fic and more characters and plot will show up later but I like adding tags as I go, and not spoiling the plot 100%. (Don't worry tho, Jango/Qui-Gon is the only ship in this fic so likely nothing else will show up there, I don't like surprise ships either.) 
> 
> The rating on this fic is likely to go up, but I might also chicken out and it goes down instead. But any, um, Fun Times, will be it's own chapter and 100% skippable if that's not your thing. 
> 
> padawansuggest.tumblr.com


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